


Without a Seeable End

by telefool



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Caring, Coda, Friendship, Gen, Near Death Experiences, S01E16: Cor'ai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 12:58:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18917503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telefool/pseuds/telefool
Summary: Daniel prepares Teal'c





	Without a Seeable End

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to do a rewatch

“What are they doing?” Daniel asked, his curious, lilting voice a balm on Teal’c’s ears, soothing the heart of him. He opened his eyes, but tried to stay still, respectful under the hands of the women who  tended him. 

The women who tended the dead.

“Preparing me for my death.” Teal’c answered and let his eyes slip closed, a relief for lids right now as heavy as a sarcophagus. Daniel scoffed, and then for a moment there was only silence, and the gentle motion of slim, cold fingers on his body.

And then the hands pulled away, and the women stepped back, and Teal’c opened his eyes in time to see Daniel Jackson step through the cell door, opened soundlessly by a paint covered hand.

Daniel was murmuring, a mix of english and something deep and curling that Daniel Jackson’s voice rumbled through. Teal’c often wondered why the others pretended to not enjoy Daniel Jackson’s talking, even when it was without a seeable end.

This ended quickly, however, the murmur of his voice drifting off, mixing pleasantly with the rustle of robes exiting the cell. And Teal’c looked up to see Daniel Jackson approaching him, booted feet shuffling on stone unforgiving to Teal’c’s knees.

And then Daniel dipped down, into a low crouch, his body slowly sinking into view. Teal’c met his eyes calmly, watched Daniel’s brow wrinkle like an untrained child. His mark of Apophis would become creased in weeks as a Jaffa. Daniel, not soft but kind, always taking others peoples weights upon himself. Upon his clear forehead.

As he did now, as Teal’c watched him dip fingers into the clay pots, raise fingers gritty with thick paint to his skin.

“What are you doing, Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c asked, his voice impossibly deep. Impassive. He did not tremble. Familiar fingers felt different from slim, even if Daniel’s fingers were still soft, uncalloused from labor,

“They- the women told me it was normally loved ones who do this- they thought we- they didn’t think to ask-”

“Thank you, Daniel.” Teal’c said, and this time his voice was almost a whisper.

A hand flat and wide over his heart, warming him, was his friends only answer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/telefool)


End file.
